


Get Batsy Laid, A Plan by Harley Quinn

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Dominant Bruce Wayne, Frottage, Harley has genius plans, Implied Bottom Clark Kent, Implied Top Bruce Wayne, Jealous Bruce, M/M, Minor Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: “I, I, I can,” he nearly stutters out as Bruce’s right hand moves to slip under his unbutton jacket and curls like a band around his hip. “I can,” he whimpers at the man steps between his legs, forcing Clark to slip further onto the desk and to spread his legs wider.Or, the one where Harley somehow talks Clark into doing something that sparks an emotion he's never seen in Bruce before.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 335
Collections: Superbat Exchange Winter 2019





	Get Batsy Laid, A Plan by Harley Quinn

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Super Petsy. I hope you enjoyed it. I tried to keep it vague, so it could be a part of whatever universe you like best.

* * *

Clark Kent closes his eyes and takes a deep, long breath — holding it for a long moment — and releases it slowly as he moves his body as directed and wonders for the hundredth time on _why_ and how he’d let himself be talked into this by Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy of all people.

_"I’m not so sure if this is a good idea, Harley,” Clark starts, soft and hesitant before being cut off by a squealing and giggly Harley._

_” This is the bestest idea eva, Mista Man!” she cheers, waving him off as pulled out her full proof plan on how to give Batsy something special and completely one of a kind for the holidays, letting the binder slam onto the tabletop, “Batsy’s gonna love gettin’ ya fer Christmas! ‘Sides, he’ll nev’a see this comin’! ‘Specially from such a sweet thing like ya.”_

_He stares at her for a long moment, then lets out a heavy sigh and moves to fiddle with his cape and clears his throat, “Okay, fine, lets, lets go over the plan. One more time. Please.”_

Opening his eyes, Clark felt himself square his shoulders and glance around the filled ballroom. He curses himself once again in his mind for letting the two women talk him into doing this at the annual Wayne Charity Gala, easily spotting Bruce standing among a small group, and feels his pulse jump as he takes in the way his lover’s suit hugs him in all the right ways.

Letting out a soft, nearly dreamy sigh, Clark lets himself stare for another moment before he jolts as he remembers the plan Harley had spent the better part of October coming up with, and all of November browbeating him down until he agreed to go along with her. Straightening again, he makes himself move his gaze along before he spots someone he thinks will fit the bill for the first part of ‘Get Batsy Laid’ — Harley had absolutely refused to change it nor would she let him or Ivy call it anything but it — and takes one more unnecessary breath to steal his nerves and slowly makes his way over to his target.

* * *

Bruce Wayne did not do _jealousy_.

 _Batman_ didn’t do jealousy.

Though, Bruce muses in the back of his mind as he bites back a low, menacing growl, and forces himself to relax his shoulders from where they’d been tensing underneath his Tom Ford suit, it seems he in fact _did_ get jealous. Slowly he unclenches his hand from his tumbler filled with whiskey, least he shatters the crystal glass by accident. Taking a quick, deep breath, he releases it slowly as he lifts his glass up and downs the rest of his drink in one large gulp before he excuses himself from the group he’d been chatting with and saunters off. 

He drops his empty tumbler off on a passing tray as he maneuvers himself around the open floor as his stride goes from a quick saunter to something more slow, menacing as he stalks to the other side of the large ballroom, his dark gaze never moving from the sight that had caught his attention, that had sent his blood singing for a fight. 

Though, as he nears, he lets himself fall into the shadows, doesn’t let the man spot him — though he’s not foolish enough to assume his prey wasn’t aware he was there, wasn’t dumb enough to not know the other was perfectly aware of his presences — and tucks himself behind a silver and blue decorated tree while he watches _his_ lover and the other man talk.

Watches as the other man flirts with what was _his_. 

Swallowing down another growl as he watches that, that, that _man_ reach out and swat at his lover in a playful manner, he instead shoved his left hand into his pocket and curls his fingers into a fist, nails nearly biting into his palm from how tightly he was clenching his hand. He watches for a moment longer, using it to reign himself back in before stepping out from behind the garish tree, plastering on a press smile as he strode up to them. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he cuts in, voice apologetic as he cuts his gaze to the unknown man before turning to the other, “But I need to borrow Mr. Kent here for a moment,” he gives a remorseful smile as he claps his hand onto Clark’s shoulder, fingers digging in for a split second, before smoothing his hand down unto it settled on to the small of his back. “Shouldn’t be long, friend,” he adds as he steers him away, not bothering to wait for the other man to speak up, as he leads his partner out of the room and towards the bank of elevators.

It’s quiet, Bruce shooting Clark warning glares everytime the man went to open his mouth as they waited for the doors to open. Giving a slight push, he nudges Clark into the small space once the doors open after the soft ding alerting them to the elevator arriving to their floor. Following on, he shoots the other man another look before reaching over and hitting the floor up to his offices. 

Once accomplished, he lets himself lean back against the walls, moving his arms up to cross them against his chest as he stares at the neon numbers slowly counting up to their desired floor.

“Bruce,” Clark starts, soft and worried but snaps his mouth shut at the low warning growl he gets in response. Swallowing, he feels his shoulders curl inward, his throat close up and his heart clench. 

_Oh Rao_ , he thinks to himself, _he should have never listened to Harley, should have never let them talk him into that stupid plan_. He can’t help but fidget, shifting from foot to foot, from lifting his arms up, letting his fingers fiddle with his glasses before dropping them back down to his sides, only to repeat the movements all over again as he awaits to hear the ding signally their arrival.

Bruce strode out, not bothering to glance and make sure Clark was following after him, as he made his way to his office doors and pulled out his keycard, opening the door just as Clark’s weary shuffling brought him to them. 

Moving his hand to settle once again on the small of Clark's back, Bruce nudged him into the darkened room before nudging him into it and following after the other man. Once in, Bruce tapped the panel, turning on the soft track lights that ran along the walls. He closes and locks the doors once again. Slipping his card back into his pocket, Bruce spun on his heel and strode forward, forcing Clark to shuffle back until he hit the edge of the desk with the back of his thighs.

“Bruc-Bruce,” Clark murmurs, soft and breathy, moving his hands almost automatically to settle on his lover’s wide, broad shoulders. “I, I, um, I can-”

“Oh,” Bruce nearly growls, low and dangerous as he looms over the other. “Can you explain?” Lifting his left hand, he lets his fingers trail along Clark’s jaw, before moving his to curl under his chin and grip it, forcing the man’s head back so he had no choice but to look up at him. “Can you explain _why_ the hell you let someone _else_ put their hands on what’s _mine_?”

“I, I, I can,” he nearly stutters out as Bruce’s right hand moves to slip under his unbutton jacket and curls like a band around his hip. “I can,” he whimpers at the man steps between his legs, forcing Clark to slip further onto the desk and to spread his legs wider.

“Well then, explain it to me,” Bruce demands, voice low and gravelly as he bends to breathe the words out directly into Clark’s ear. 

“Harley,” Clark babbles, “She um, she ah,” he whimpers as the older man lets his body finally lay flush with Clarks, “She told me, well, she um, she wanted to do something, something ni-ce,” his voice cracks on the last word as Bruce noses down Clark’s neck and grounds their hips together.

“Harley Quinn wanted to do something nice?”

“For you,” he whimpers out, “For the help you got her, the um, the space? He-her and Ivy thought it would be nice, to-to give you me.”

“But I already _have_ you, Clark, don’t I? Aren’t you already mine?” Bruce demands, more than questions as he draws his face back to stare down at the man in his arms. He can’t help but let his lips curve in a half smirk as he takes in the blown pupils, the red, plump bitten lips, and the way his curls are coming on done — despite the fact Bruce hasn’t even run his fingers through those thick locks. 

“I am,” Clark promises, more whines that actually speaks, as Bruce continues to grind their hips together, in short powerful thrusts. 

“Then why did Harley feel the need to give you to me?” He questions once more, forcing Clark to pull back into the moment.

“For helping her with Joker, and with Ivy,” Clark rushes out in a whine, “So, so she convinced me to make you jealous, he pants out, “Said, said it’d wind up, and, and,” he whimpers, cutting himself off. 

“And I’d what, lose control?” Bruce asks, stealing his movements and pulled back to where he was still standing between Clark’s open legs but with enough space they could no longer grind against each other. 

“Yes,” Clark whimpers, hips still jerking at nothing but air.

Bruce tilts his head to the side, studies his lover for a long moment before he lets a dark smirk curled at his lips as he watches the other man struggled to peel his eyes open. 

“We’ll be talking about exploiting my emotions later,” he promises, holds the other’s gaze only long enough for Clark to nod in agreement, before stepping back to press their bodies close one again. “For now, I guess I shouldn’t let Harley’s planning, nor her present to go to waste.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Nixie! You can find me where I post the things I [create](https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/), or at my main blog [here](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
